


Through a glass, darkly

by Jaspersfic



Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dark, Canon-Typical Violence, HYDRA Trash Party, Hydra (Marvel), M/M, Mirror Universe, Parallel Universes, Threats of Rape/Non-Con, Threats of Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-14
Updated: 2014-12-14
Packaged: 2018-03-01 12:46:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2773484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jaspersfic/pseuds/Jaspersfic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A remnant of Red Room has activated the Icepick Protocol, and for Steve to save the lives of his teammates he has to infiltrate a hydra base in the mirrorverse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Through a glass, darkly

**Author's Note:**

  * For [stoatsandwich](https://archiveofourown.org/users/stoatsandwich/gifts).



> Gift for stoatsandsandwich, based on her mirrorverse: http://stoatsandwich.tumblr.com/tagged/mirror-universe-mcu  
> Inspired by: http://stoatsandwich.tumblr.com/post/105213623306/birthday-ficlet-for-me-by-snake-socks by snakesocks

Steve looked across the room, feeling a tightness build in his chest. It felt like the asthma attacks he had had as a child. He wasn’t cut out for this. He was a soldier, not a spy, and Natasha would have fitted in better here than he ever could. His gaze lingered on the redhead’s form for a moment, before turning to the man beside her, his fingers tangled in the leash around her neck. Pierce. Around them sat STRIKE, laughing and joking together, a horrific parody of the commandos. Rumlow, free of burns, was smiling at him, holding up a hand in greeting.

He hesitated a moment longer, trying to quell the anger and horror that bubbled up inside of him. It was only the presence of Bucky at his feet, and the knowledge that him running now put everyone at risk that kept him calm, made him nod his head respectfully to Pierce and advance.

 

Fifteen hours ago an offshoot of the Red Room had activated the Icepick Protocol.

 

Thirteen hours ago the Avengers had finally managed to overpower Barton and Romanoff, bundling them into separate cells designed to imprison superhumans. Clint had spat and scratched and snarled the entire way, trying to bite and kick. He’d nearly broken Steve’s wrist, and had left deep bite marks in Thor’s arm before being overpowered. Romanoff had run, deep into the bowels of the Tower’s systems, and it was only with Jarvis’s help that she had been located and dragged into a waiting cell.

 

Twelve hours ago Natasha had calmed down enough to sit by the front wall of the cell, staring at the rest of the team, shivering slightly. She had looked uncomfortable in her own skin, and kept throwing darting glances around her prison. In whispers, she had explained what they had done, how they had poisoned her blood with a disease, turning her into their own sick version of a femme-fatale. As Steve heard her, his stomach had started to twist. It hadn’t untwisted yet.

The remainder of the team had exchanged glances.  
“If I can get a blood sample, I can investigate…” Bruce had suggested cautiously. “But it will take a while.”  
“I don’t think we’ve got a while Doc.” Tony had answered, as he tilted his head towards the cell holding Hawkeye. Clint was throwing himself at the wall again and again, eyes dark with impotent rage.

“Excuse me.” Jarvis had interrupted from the ceiling. “But I do believe I have a solution.”  
“Shoot J.” Tony had smirked proudly.  
“I have been following the feeds from the cameras Captain Rogers and Sergeant Barnes installed in the 919-616 universe we found four months ago. I believe that their version of Agent Romanoff was able to access the serum needed to scrub the nanites from her blood.”  
“And?” Steve had asked, his mouth going dry.  
“And I believe the serum would remain in her blood.”

“Shit.” Bucky had muttered, and Steve had managed a weak smile. He didn't want to go back, not after what he had learned last time, not after seeing that dark mirror of his own soul. But the lives of two of his team mates were on the line.  
"Alright. Then we plan."

 

Eleven hours ago Steve had sat down, Bucky on one side and Tony on the other. They watched the video feeds from the 919-616 universe.  
"Is that... is that a choke chain?" Steve whispered, his voice shaking as he watched in horror.  
"Sure looks like it." Bucky answered. "You okay with this Stevie?"  
"Doesn't... doesn't really matter if I am, or not, does it?"  
"No." Tony sighed. "If we're going to fix Romanoff and Hawkbutt while they are still there to save, we're going to need those samples."

Steve nodded, trying to ignore the lump in his throat. He wasn't sure that he could do this, but if he didn't... this was bad enough, but failure meant the death of two members of his team.  
"We'll work it out." Bucky promised, squeezing his arm. "Look, I'll be right there with you."

Steve nodded slowly. Leaving the other Bucky in place was too great a risk, he'd sniff him out instantly.  
"You'll have a choke chain around your neck Buck."  
"Yeah." Bucky agreed. "It's useful. You notice me disassociating, or starting to panic, and you pull on it, you'll get me right out."  
"You sure?" Steve asked, and Bucky nodded. Steve couldn't help feeling Bucky was far too calm about this whole thing.

"Alright, choke chain in Roger's left hand." Tony muttered, adding it to the page of notes they were working on. If they were going to pull it off, they needed accuracy.

 

Four hours ago Bucky had been laying on their bed, the papers Tony had jotted down on spread out in front of him. Questions flew from him, checking Steve had all the information memorised.

Steve answered him when he wasn't holding a paintbrush in his mouth, forehead creased in concentration as he carefully covered the red star on Bucky's shoulder with the black Hydra logo. He dipped the thin brush in the paint once more, sketching out the shape by looking at a photograph from the other world, and then filling it in with short neat strokes.

Bucky looked up from how he was sprawled, flashing Steve a bright smile.  
"It looks good."  
"As long as it fools them." Steve answered, damping the brush with more paint. He had to make this work but in his eyes, this was far from good.

 

Two hours ago they had found themselves back in this darker, warped version of reality; the one that made his blood run cold. Arriving at this other place hadn't proven a problem. Ever since the world had first been discovered, a portal had hung between them. Now it had simply been put to use, and it had been the work of moments to locate the other Steve and Bucky. 

Individually, the darker mirrors were probably stronger. They were more ruthless, more brutal, and had no concern about leaving Steve and Bucky alive. But they fought alone.

Bucky and Steve fought as a unit, each an extension of the other's form. Their enemies had been forced down, restrained, stripped and bundled out of the way, before Steve had applied Tony's super-soldier knock out patch to each of them. It kept them docile for now, meant the mission could be finished and clothes returned without a fight. 

Steve had slipped into the dark clothes of the other him, trying not to let his thoughts linger on the logo across the chest or the H emblazoned on his cowl. He could see Bucky in the man's mirror version, see the protectiveness within his lover twisted into something perverse. He wondered if he held the capacity for cruelty his other self clearly possessed. If at some point, that evil would come spilling out from him.

He tried to push those thoughts aside and focus on helping Bucky to dress in the uniform that in their world, he had been able to abandon. His hands had shaken as he helped fasten the buckles over Bucky’s shoulders. Bucky had just sat there and taken it without complaint, and then helped him to hide the unconscious bodies of the other Steve and Soldier.

Then, all that was left was the heavy chains in his hand. The worst thing about it was the relief that bubbled in Steve’s gut – they’d caught the other him using worse on the other Bucky. He didn’t have to hold a chain which would stab sharp points into Bucky’s vulnerable throat. In a way this was a mercy, and he hated how grateful he felt about that.

Bucky knelt by his feet, flashing a cheeky smile up at him before he bowed his head forwards, the picture of submission. Steve reached down and slipped it on, his lips brushing against the back of Bucky’s neck before he stood, the end of the chain in his left hand. He was in control of this, he told himself. He could stop anyone from touching Bucky, because in this world Bucky belonged to him. It was a privilege.

Now he stepped forwards towards Pierce, holding his head up in false confidence. He was meant to pass as Hydra’s greatest weapon, he couldn’t afford to show weakness for even a second.

Another step, and the chain in his fist went taut. He glanced back to see that Bucky hadn’t moved forwards at all. His mouth was dry, but he fixed Bucky with his coldest stare, hoping that would be enough to prompt movement. It wasn’t, and with a heavy heart he made himself yank on the chain.  
“Heel.”

Bucky snarled up at him, hand reaching towards his throat then falling back before it contacted the metal. He crawled forwards on his hands and knees in Steve’s shadow, and Steve felt himself relax a little. He could see his target clearly, the other Natasha sat at Pierce’s feet. Her collar was black leather, but the fury in her eyes was as cold as that Bucky showed. He just had to reach her and then they could leave.

“Cap…” Rumlow’s voice purred beside him, and Steve only just resisted the urge to turn and punch him. As it was he regarded him coldly, his eyes full of anger which merely made the other Rumlow smirk.  
“Good job on the Lemurian Star Captain. We were impressed. Stupid Canadian bastard, he won’t be trying to get one over on us again.” 

Behind them, STRIKE guffawed and Steve made himself smirk. Rumlow’s hand was on his arm and he had to stand firm.  
“I don’t know what he expected.” Steve shrugged. “Trying to fly a pirate’s flag on a Hydra ship.”  
“He shouldn’t have ever tried.” Rumlow agreed. “He never will again.”

Steve knew that passing as one of them was necessary. He still felt sick. He didn’t want to consider whether this other part of him was somehow still a part of him. But that was something to think about once they were home. Bucky relied on him staying focused for now.

Bucky let out an angry snarl from near his feet, and he looked to see that Rumlow’s hands were in Bucky’s hair.  
“No one touches you without my say so.” He told Bucky, putting as much of himself into his words as he dared. Bucky glared at him, and he reached down to backhand him, intending to pull his hand back at the last moment. Bucky darted forwards, and Steve hit him hard, making his head snap to the side and causing red to bloom across one side of his face.

This was no time for guilt.  
“And as for you, you touch him without my permission, I cut your hand off.” Steve said coldly, rounding on Rumlow and trying to channel the haughty attitude of the man he was pretending to be.  
“You sure we can’t have a go Cap?”  
“Not now.” Steve answered with a glare. That made them laugh, Mercer applauding, and Steve reached down for a second to run his fingers through Bucky's hair, tilting his head backwards so he could look into his eyes.

Bucky looked calmer than Steve had expected. He didn't look like he needed to bail out, and Steve had to trust Bucky here. They wouldn't both get out alive if he didn't trust him. He tugged at Bucky's hair before pulling him forwards Pierce, grateful that this time Bucky did keep up.

He stood in front of Pierce, the ruler who had come so close to control in his own world. His flesh was crawling, but he knew he had to pretend to be calm for the sake of holding his cover. He shook his hand and stood in front of him, letting Pierce talk about tactics. He tried not to look at this other Romanoff, dressed scantily and with dark red smeared across her lips. This wasn't his friend, and the real Natasha deserved better than for him to stare at this figure sat at Pierce's feet, her expression aloof and eyes dark with an emotion he couldn't place.

There was laughter from by the door as it opened, and he looked up to see Sam Wilson striding into the room. He was accompanied by another man with short brown hair. Both of them were wearing black uniforms, the Hydra logo on their shoulders, and they had the EXO-7 Falcon harnesses on their back. They moved as a unit, talking quietly to each other, and grinning broadly. Steve had seen enough photographs to recognize the man instantly.

He nearly called out to them, but before he could speak, the leash in his hand was yanked as Bucky launched himself at the other Natasha, resting his hand on her exposed side. Steve caught sight of the tiniest flash of silver, and then saw blood. Bucky had played his role perfectly.

Steve had the sense to release the leash as Natasha lunged forwards, snarling as she spat at Bucky, one fist reaching out at hitting his nose with a sickening crunch. In a moment blood had spilled down Bucky's lip, and then he and Natasha were rolling on the floor.

Pierce sighed softly as he glanced down at them.  
"Romanova. Here."  
Natasha backed off, and Pierce kicked hard at Bucky's ribs. Steve cleared his throat, and Pierce rounded on him.  
"Can't you control your mutt Rogers?"  
"I will deal with him." He grabbed the leash off of the floor, just as Bucky's lips drew back in a furious snarl, glaring up at Pierce. It was barely human. Bucky was so angry that Steve nearly dropped the leash in surprise, but he just managed to hold onto it. He tugged it once, and Bucky looked up at him. The tiniest nod of his head passed between them and Steve returned his gaze to Pierce.

"May I take him away and teach him his place?"  
"I suppose so. Just don't miss out STRIKE, they're always good at teaching him exactly where he belongs."  
"Yes sir." Steve answered and turned away. He needed to get Bucky home.

He dragged him from the conference room and back towards where the unconscious bodies of their other selves were waiting before addressing him again. He knelt to unfasten the choke chain from his neck, and then quickly changed the clothes back over.  
"Did we get what we came for?"  
Bucky nodded, holding out the small sample he had taken, pressed into the cloth Bruce had provided. Steve tried to smile, to ignore the blood that had run down over Bucky’s mouth and onto his chin.  
"Then let's get home..." Steve muttered, fighting to ignore how sick he felt.

Bruce and Tony were waiting for them as they stepped back through. Bucky handed over the material to Bruce, and Tony went closer towards them, then backed away at a glare from Steve.  
“Okay…” He walked off, returning with a bowl of warm water and some clean flannels. He placed them on the table then left the room.

Steve smiled nervously at Bucky, trying to appear calm.  
“You did great Buck… you really did…” Steve could feel he was shaking, but he tried not to. He reached down, helping Bucky back to his feet, and carefully walked him over to where the water was waiting.  
“You just sit down Buck… how’s the nose?”  
“It’ll heal.” Bucky muttered, letting Steve carefully begin the process of wiping away the dried blood. The hydra logo on the arm would have to be removed with paint stripper later.  
“I’m sorry Buck.” Steve murmured, still thinking about the other him, how he acted towards Bucky. “I’m sorry. I dunno how you managed to stand it.”

Bucky managed a slight shake of the head, smiling up at him.  
“It was nothing Hydra didn't do before. At least this time I could show them I was pissed off."


End file.
